


Snapshots pt 3

by PotatoQuinn



Series: Snapshots [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, I couldn't help myself, Oh look, Snapshots, a clexa child, look I did it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 06:50:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10826010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoQuinn/pseuds/PotatoQuinn
Summary: It’s late, maybe three in the morning. It’s dark, and a bit chilly, and why is it chilly? Lexa turns over in bed to snuggle closer to her wife and finds that she’s alone. She frowns and gets up, goes to the bathroom in search of Clarke. She’s not there, and she’s not in Aden’s room, and she’s not in-She’s in the kitchen, staring into the open fridge. Tears are rolling down her cheeks, and she’s sniffing. Lexa smiles and bites her lip to hide it, because oh my god this is adorable, but what’s wrong, why is Clarke crying?“Love, what’s wrong?” Lexa kneels next to her wife and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.“We’re out of pickles, Lex.” Clarke points at the door of the fridge, where Lexa supposes a jar of pickles would live, if they ever bought pickles.-or-a look into Clexa's future in this 'verse I have created





	Snapshots pt 3

    They sit together on the bed, holding hands and staring at the object on the dresser in front of them. It’s sitting where they can see it, but not read what it says, and the both of them are so so nervous. Aden is with Abby and Jake downtown, at some exhibit he had wanted to see. They knew this was important to the women, and had offered to keep him distracted.

    Finally, the alarm on Clarke’s phone goes off, and she sits staring at her phone for a minute. Lexa jumps up and looks at the pregnancy test, then at Clarke, then at the test. This was their third try, they’d been waiting so long, and now-

    She pulls her wife up and hugs her so tight, kissing her hair and whispering words of love in her ear.

    They have dinner with the Griffins and Aden at a nice Italian place. Low lights, soft music, and a smiling waiter greet them all as they’re shown to a table. He leaves a menu with them, and the family chats about small things.

    Abby’s new clinic, which she just opened a few months ago in the city. Jake’s new job, at the factory, where he works with the owners to try and improve production rates and is also redesigning some of the equipment they’re using. Aden’s favourite classes in school, and the girl he had a crush on who he’s been hanging out with a lot lately. She likes him too, and he’d brought her home to do homework once, and Clarke had teased him relentlessly for a week. The gallery that was going to show some of Clarke’s works next week, and how proud everyone was, she was making it! Lexa’s cafe, and how she wanted to redo the interior.

    The waiter comes back and offers them a bottle of wine. Abby tastes it, Lexa too, and they nod. The waiter (his name is Jimmy) pours Jake a glass as well, and when he goes to offer it to Clarke, she shakes her head with a smile growing on her face.

    She can’t drink alcohol, because the tests this morning were positive. She bites her lip, trying to contain her excitement. Abby starts crying, and laughing, and she gets up, pulls Clarke up, hugs her tightly. She pulls Lexa up too, holds her just as tightly. Aden and Jake join in, and then they’re in the midst of a group hug in the middle of a semi-fancy Italian restaurant, laughing and crying and chattering excitedly about the soon-to-be new member of their family.

    They tell Anya, Lincoln, Raven, Octavia, Bellamy, Murphy, Jasper, and Monty next, three months later, and there’s more hugs. Raven and Octavia insist on dragging Clarke out to ice cream, and they take Aden with them, and Murphy and Monty, while the others all stare after them a bit dumbfounded.

    “Who wants a beer?” Bellamy just shrugs it off, heading to the fridge in the Griffin-Wilde apartment.

    “We don’t have beer, Bell,” Lexa tells him, amused at the slump of disappointment that follows.

    Lincoln goes out and buys beer and pizza, and juice, and there’s a bit of a feast waiting by the time the others get back.

    Lexa and Clarke celebrate with their friends, so so excited about it all.

 

* * *

 

    It’s late, maybe three in the morning. It’s dark, and a bit chilly, and why is it chilly? Lexa turns over in bed to snuggle closer to her wife and finds that she’s alone. She frowns and gets up, goes to the bathroom in search of Clarke. She’s not there, and she’s not in Aden’s room, and she’s not in-

    She’s in the kitchen, staring into the open fridge. Tears are rolling down her cheeks, and she’s sniffing. Lexa smiles and bites her lip to hide it, because oh my god this is adorable, but what’s wrong, why is Clarke crying?

    “Love, what’s wrong?” Lexa kneels next to her wife and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

    “We’re out of pickles, Lex.” Clarke points at the door of the fridge, where Lexa supposes a jar of pickles would live, if they ever bought pickles.

    “You want pickles?” Lexa presses a kiss to the side of Clarke’s head to hide her smile, and the blonde nods. “What kind?”

    “Dill!” She says it like it should be obvious, and lexa bites her lip, hard.

    “Of course, Love! I don’t know why I even asked.” Lexa looks at the stove clock and thinks for a moment. There’s a 24/7 store a couple of blocks away, she could jog there and be back in half an hour. “Okay, I can go and get some, are you alright to wait a bit?” Clarke nods again, and Lexa pulls on her arm, gently. “Let’s close the fridge, then, and you can snuggle up on the couch with that book you’ve been reading.”

    Lexa wraps Clarke up in the soft throw blanket they keep on the couch, makes sure she’s comfy. She grabs her phone and wallet, pulls her shoes on, and glances at her wife. “I’ll be right back, half an hour at the most, okay?”

    She jogs to the store, buys the pickles (two jars, just in case), and heads home. She’s back with two minutes to spare, and she sets the jars on the counter. Clarke pads over to her and takes a jar with a kiss to Lexa’s cheek, then grabs the nutella from the cupboard and settles back on the couch.

    Lexa just stands there and watches, because as gross as that looks, her wife looks so content and happy. It warms her heart, knowing she’s the one who caused this, knowing that she’ll do anything to keep Clarke this happy for the rest of her life.

 

* * *

 

    Clarke is standing in the back of the classroom with Lexa, grinning while Aden contributes to the debate. She watches as he looks at everyone, waving his hands around as he makes his point, emphasizes some words to send his speech home. She rests a hand on her growing belly, claps with the rest when he finishes. He grins at them and bounces over once he’s dismissed from the stand, pulls out his chair.

    “Clarke, you should sit down. There’s another hour of this before we’re done.” Aden smiles, tilting his head.

    Lexa is grinning at him so wide, so proud, and Clarke sits with a smile. “Thank you, Aden.” Her feet were starting to ache, so she’s thankful of his thoughtfulness.

    He grins back at them and stands next to Lexa to listen to the other contestants, his hands behind his back and his head held up high.

    Clarke is suddenly struck, as she looks around them, by a feeling of belonging. It’s not like she didn’t feel like part of their family before, she did. She does. Aden chatters to his friends all the time about his sister the artist who’s married to his sister the cafe owner, and a couple of them even call her “Aden’s blonde sister” because they can’t be bothered to remember her name. It’s that, sitting here in his seat in his debate class, Lexa’s hand on her shoulder, Aden standing guard behind her, she realizes they even look like a family. She never really thought about anything like that before, how they looked. Even after being married to Lexa for three years, it never really seemed relevant.

    Not that images were important to Clarke. She just liked the idea of how they looked, together like this. She has a sudden urge to paint them, and to paint the whole family. Her mom and dad, Anya and Raven, Octavia and Lincoln, Bellamy and Murphy, even Jasper and Monty. Lexa and Aden and herself.

    She never paints herself, but, she thinks, she just might now.

 

* * *

 

    It’s storming outside when Clarke goes into labour. She’d been sitting on the couch with Aden, watching Doctor Who with him and arguing over which Doctor was the best one (she likes them all, but if she _had_ to choose, she’d pick the eleventh, because he was so young while being so old and yet, always managed to smile). Her water breaks, and Aden is the first to notice. He’s too excited to realize she might be embarrassed ‘cause now the couch is wet, and he jumps up and calls Lexa.

    He grabs Clarke’s hospital bag and the car keys and helps Clarke out of the apartment to the car. He loves that he can drive now, even if it’s only a permit he has. He likes that he can be helpful right now, because as excited as he is, he’s suddenly nervous, too.

    He drives quickly but legally, and drops Clarke off at the doors where Lexa is waiting with a wheelchair. He parks the car and laughs, because Lexa is so so excited too, and then he runs in to follow as far as he can.

    He calls Anya and Lincoln, and Mom and Dad Griffin, and shoots texts to Bellamy and Monty. Soon, there’s eleven people pacing in the waiting room. A nurse comes and says Clarke is asking for her mother, so Abby gets up and goes, and then there’s ten. Aden forces himself to sit, ends up on the edge of the seat, staring intently at the door that separates them from Lexa and Clarke, and now Abby.

    “Nervous?” Jake sits down next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

    Aden blushes a little and shrugs, then remembers his manners. “A little. Don’t know why though.”

    “I’m nervous too,” Dad Griffin admits, smiling.

    “You are?” Aden glances at him, then focuses on him.

    “Of course. My baby’s having a baby.” Dad Griffin grins, glancing at the doors before focusing back on Aden. “It’s enough to make any man nervous.” He squeezes Aden’s shoulder.

    Aden nods, and his leg starts to bounce. The others have sat down now, too, and he glances at them. He’s nervous because there’s so much that could go wrong, he looked it up on google, and he probably shouldn’t have, but he was curious. Danny said his sister had a stillborn, and Aden is really really nervous.

    “It’ll be okay, son. They’ll come out just fine.” Dad relaxes into his chair, and Aden copies him, stilling his leg. Dad’s words are calming, and he sounds so sure, Aden believes him.

    Skye Abigail Griffin-Wilde is born at 8:45 in the evening, at seven pounds and three ounces, and the sky outside clears up as soon as she’s screaming in the world.

    Aden gets to be the first to hold her, after Lexa and Abby already have, and he smiles down at his newborn niece, then grins at Clarke and Lexa. She has Clarke’s nose, and dark hair, and he can’t wait to see if she’ll have Clarke’s blue gaze or Lexa’s green, because they made sure to include that in whatever they did to make this happen. Aden doesn’t know the details, and he doesn’t really care, either, as long as his niece is healthy and happy.

 

* * *

 

    The last box is finally empty, the bowls that it held put away in their new cupboard in the kitchen of their new house. They had bought the house just a few months ago, needing to expand. With Aden and Skye, the three bedroom apartment had seemed too small. The house was also three bedroom, but the rooms were bigger, and they had a yard.

    Their living room was a room all by itself, and they had a dining room and kitchen too, and a laundry room and a basement and a small foyer. Two and a half bathrooms, so Aden had his own.

    Clarke sat on the couch with a sigh and a smile on her lips, exhausted but happy. Lexa sat next to her, kissing her head, smiling as well, glancing at the overstuffed chair by the window. “Clarke, look,” Lexa nudges her wife.

    There, sitting sideways in the dark red chair, is Aden. He’s snoring softly, his head thrown back against the arm of the chair. Skye sleeps on his chest, a tiny fist bunched up in his shirt. She’s already a year and a half old, dark curls spilled out behind her head.

    She has Clarke’s blue eyes, which peek at them for a moment before she shifts and goes back to sleep.

    Clarke bites her lip over a smile and pulls out her phone, snapping a picture and sending it to her mother. “I’m going to paint them.”

    Lexa sighs happily and pulls Clarke into her side, content to sit and watch her daughter and brother sleep. Her eyes do drift once, to the painting above the mantle. It’s the beach scene, the first painting Lexa ever saw of Clarke’s.

    She loves it, the symbol of the start of their life together.


End file.
